Mezzanines
by typicalhigh
Summary: A collection of drabbles. Various pairings.
1. heartbeats

**heartbeats**  
typicalhigh

* * *

The lights in the isolation lab flick out, one by one with a mechanical grind that rings through the glass walls and still, antiseptic air with a note of finality. In the unfamiliar darkness Tony finds himself intensely aware of the blood thrumming in his veins, pulse there beneath clammy and pale skin; the sound of Kate's gentle breaths close by, languid and steady, in and out. His own heartbeat sounds unfamiliar in his ears - all these flickering, shimmering reminders of life that he'd taken for granted for so long do.

He rolls over, takes Kate's hand in his and remembers to breathe.


	2. special cases

**special cases**  
typicalhigh

* * *

McGee feels sick to his stomach at the sight of the man in the interrogation room. The case had begun with the murder of a Marine's wife and daughter, and by the end of the case, the comparisons between it and Gibbs' own personal history was scarily obvious, even to his team.

"I'd appreciate it if you left me alone in interrogation with this—" Gibbs says quietly, leaving his sentence incomplete as if he doesn't have the words to finish his thought. The deadly calm in his voice sends a thrill of dread though McGee's stomach and he nods, almost imperceptibly, turning to leave. He knows as certain as anything that Gibbs is, quintessentially, unquestionably, a good man - but seeing him like this reminds McGee that Gibbs is also capable of the sort of primal, destructive rage that these sick and twisted people are always consumed by - and the parallels scares him.

He tells the techs to switch off the audio and cameras, and leaves the room without a glance backwards.


	3. i am over it

**i am over it**  
typicalhigh

* * *

Ziva runs her fingers around the edge of her cool glass and stares into it so intensely that Ducky, sitting next to her, thinks she may be seeing the very meaning of life hovering in her tequila sunrise's depths. It is her fifth drink in an hour and a half, and with each drink Ducky buys her she slurs her words more, becomes louder and increasingly lucid. He should probably be more responsible and stop Ziva from drinking herself into oblivion, but he knows she has tomorrow off, and if he is honest with himself, it's just that Ziva is terribly adorable when she is drunk - all slumped shoulders and an aspect of anguish about her. Not to mention the things she would never bring herself to say while sober.


	4. reflections

**reflections**  
typicalhigh

* * *

As the past fifteen years come back to him in strange, crashing tides of memory that chill him to his bones, Ziva falls into Gibbs' arms, her tears soaking through his scrubs and dampening his shoulder. He remembers everything now: Kate, her blank and staring eyes, hole the size of a dime in her forehead and blood pooling beneath her; Ari's feral, twisted grin - it all returns and he almost feels sick at the memory of Ziva, gun in hand, eyes strangely dry as she watches her half-brother, bleed to death on the floor of his basement, slain by her hand.

She stands before him, letting loose the torrent of hurt and tears she never let herself acknowledge before. Her choked sobs are the only sound in the darkened room, and Gibbs feels the strange, paternal need to keep a hold on her, his arms wrapped around her an anchor back to the now and the present.


	5. in out

**in / out**  
typicalhigh

* * *

"Oh God," comes Kate's frantic voice from the far corner of Abby's room. "We're late already and I have no idea where my shoes are." She peeks under a bed. Nope - not there, where she thought she left them last night - apparently she was wrong.

Abby, who is almost done putting her hair in pigtails in front of a mirror, shrugs. "Borrow some of mine?"

Kate moves to the wardrobe, where Abby's vast and, really, quite impressive collection of shoes is stored. She frowns. "Don't you own anything apart from all those boots and Mary Janes?"

Abby grins. "Nope! Isn't it great?"

She sighs. "Lucky I'm wearing pants, today. Maybe nobody will notice. . ." she trails off.

"Come on, we're late!" Abby is halfway out the door.

Fortunately, nobody noticed the clunky, big boots Kate wore into work that day. She was thankful; it probably would have led to a few questions which would have been awkward as hell to answer.


	6. lights and music

**lights and music  
**kate, gen

* * *

It's nice to go out, after the long days and evenings at work, Kate thinks, seated at the bar with Tony and McGee, who'd dragged her out after a particularly arduous case, along with Abby. The club is surprisingly nice, given that it had been Tony's idea to go out: even for a Saturday, it's not too full, and the crowd seems to consist mostly of students from the local university, and trendy-looking corporate types, socialising at the bar.

Abby is off dancing wildly in the middle of the dancefloor. Losing track of DiNozzo and McGee's indepth discussion of the pros and cons of fighting using sticks, she instead turns her attention to the movement of Abby's body, wild and lovely. She smiles as Abby throws her arms in the air, shimmies her hips and tosses her head back, squealing with glee, as she dances to the music in the air, pigtails dusting the tops of her shoulders.

It's easy to forget about the bodies at work, here: cold, stretched out prone on autopsy tables under harsh, unforgiving light, focusing instead on the life and movement, laughter and joy she sees everywhere under the flashing lights, to the time of the loud music.

She drains the rest of her beer, and grins at Tony and Tim, getting up. "Think Abby'll be able to keep up with me?"


End file.
